The Adventures of the 10th Doctor
by Captain-Chubbs
Summary: Everybody, hold up and rewind. Back to the days of David Tennant...the tenth doctor! In this collection of stories, we find the 10th Doctor and Donna Noble battling new monsters, new threats, and a whole lot of new laughs. BEWARE THE OF THE EYE-BANDITS.
1. The Paperboy of Mournberry Castle

**Prologue:**_The__Paperboy__of__Mournberry__Castle_

The castle in the forest was supposedly abandoned. Surely, in the present time, it was indeed. But one-hundred years before, in the year 1911, a strange phenomenon was occurring.

The paperboy, on his morning route, slipped Mournberry Castle's newspaper into their stone mailbox. The box was so full, the wiry boy had to shove and rearrange for some time until he got the paper in. Removing his woolen hat, he shielded his eyes and took note of the sun's position. He must have been at least fifteen minutes behind schedule!

He studied the sky for quite a while, trying to reassure himself of the time, when the shriek reached his ears. It was the increasingly horrible scream of a woman, like one thousand teapots all boiling at once. Frantic, the poor boy simply ran in circles for a moment, before regaining his state of human mind.

Timidly at first but gaining courage, the boy replaced his cap and ran over to Mournberry Castle's decorated oak doors. He knocked, but there was not a sound, except the consistent pounding of his frightened heart. His hands trembling, the boy tried the golden lion knocker. The only noise to be heard was the long echo it created inside the Castle.

The boy turned away to continue on his paper route, when he remembered last weeks' front page. It had read something about a bystander saving a woman from a disastrous carriage crash, and being rewarded with not only fortune, but fame as well.

The paperboy contemplated this. If he saved this woman, would he be known? What if he heroically saved the woman from a footpad, and throughout time he'd be relished as the young hero of 1911? Remembered as the boy who was famous from luck; being there at the right moment, the perfect time…

Thoughts of money flying through his head, the paperboy defiantly turned around and let him self in. Ignoring the rather eerie darkness, the boy shut the door behind him. As soon as the wood returned to its frame, it locked itself.

A bit of panic stole into the paperboy's shell of greed. He lashed out and tugged at the door, but someone seemed to have locked. Starting to sweat, the boy convinced himself a gardener had not seen him come in and had locked the door as they went by. Taking a shaky breath, the boy continued on, tip-toeing up the left stairwell. At the top he was trembling so violently he had to steady himself on the railing. As soon as he touched it, the railing disintegrated.

The poor boy nearly jumped out of his skin and a fresh torrent of adrenaline was released, so it took a few moments to regain a calm heartbeat. He leaned down and studied the railing. It appeared to be burned into ash, but at the touch, the boy noticed a thin layer of transparent ooze held it together, giving it the appearance of stability.

Careful not to grab on to the railing another time, the boy robotically moved forward footstep by footstep. Eventually, after a half hour or so, the boy was completely lost. There was neither another shriek nor sound at that, except the faint drip of a leaky occasionally.

It was nearly an hour since the boy had crept into the Castle that he heard the noise. It was a gurgling rumble, like someone choking inside an enclosed container. There was a _whoosh_and a gurgle, repeating and getting louder as the boy crept on. Breaths coming in ragged intakes, the boy slid over to the room where then noise was loudest.

Four yellow eyes…then a sudden darkness.


	2. A Body In The Hallway

**Chapter****Two:**_A__Body__in__the__Hallway_

The butler was a prestigious fellow. Or, he at least aimed to be. He was on the lower end of the rank list, but he tried to be otherwise, and his colleagues had never reported him of showing a sign of any un-businesslike emotions. His name was Denmark Neulfred, named after the Scandinavian country, in which is great grandfather thought highly of.

Neulfred paced briskly up the left stairwell, going to scrub clean Miss Mournberry's bathroom. When he saw the disintegrated railing, he didn't stop, and instead started mumbling to himself about Castle repairs. But he did stop when he saw the young man's unmoving body in the hallway.

Startled, Neulfred leaned over the boy. He was completely black, and when Neulfred brushed against him, he noticed a slimy substance coating his skin and clothing. What he had taken for railing polish was also on the boy! The boy had turned into a railing!

Knocking away this uncannily immature thought, he hurried to Miss Mournberry's bedroom. He didn't knock, a rare sight, and instead let himself in.

"Mistress!" Neulfred cried, "A body in the hallway!"

Miss Mournberry's head shot up from her reading, and she didn't look necessarily happy at her butler's sudden entrance. Though disgruntled, her butler's words suddenly registered and she put her book down.

"A body, you say?" She exclaimed.

"Indeed!" Neulfred motioned for Miss Mournberry to follow him, "It is near the sewing room! It appears to be the body of a young man, but I cannot be certain. It is black beyond belief, and it is covered with a kind of railing polish!"

Francine Mournberry was a famous old woman. She had seen and heard many unusual things, met many unusual people, and taught herself to sift out lies and notice the most incredible details. But never in her life did she feel so obliged to accompany a butler. "My goodness!" she cried, standing up from her rocking chair, "Well, get a move on, Denmark!"

As she hurried down the hallway, she recalled Neulfred's word. 'It is black beyond belief, and it is covered with a kind of railing polish.' What terrible, pitiless robber could do such a thing to an innocent being?

_Let__Mr.__Neulfred__take__care__of__this!_Miss Mournberry's thoughts tried to persuade, _you__have__nothing__to__do__with__murderers!__And__if__there__is__one__on__the__loose__in__you__own__home,__you__are__not__the__madam__to__deal__with__it!_

Taking a deep breath, Miss Mournberry rushed to Neulfred and copied his movements, leaning over the young man's body. She gasped when she saw it. The charred face, the sooty hands, the blackened clothes. Now she was not as convinced it was a mere robber. What if there was a full-out killer on the lose in _her_house?

She looked at the body, then to her butler, and back. Then she commanded her butler to step into the room to find the meaning of the catastrophe.

Proudly, Neulfred bounded in. Finally, to show Mistress what he could do! He'd easily become her most trusted after this.

There was a crash of orange light, a strangled gasp, and Miss Mournberry's own scream before she blacked out.


	3. Meet The Doctor

The Doctor, meanwhile, was hanging upside down in a cavern in the planet Nevzarus. His feet were tied to the ceiling, bound together with constrictor vines. He was digging in his pockets for his silver ink pen when the cell phone rang. Startled at the noise, he grabbed the phone and held it up to his ear.

"Heeeeeello?" he called into the cell phone. He admired the way the Nevzarus stone took the sound waves from his voice and twisted them up.

"It's Beatrice," a few anxious moments, a woman's voice fizzed out of the device, "Our sensors have picked up a warning signal from a man-watched monster in 1911, and it coming from a place formerly named Mournberry Castle."

"Oh, lovely Miss Mournberry!" the Doctor fished out his silver pen, and the beam of turquoise light it emitted when he clicked it started to burn through his binds. "A poor soul, that one; never had a good cup of hot chocolate. She fancies crème Brule with lemon tea. Any word of what has happened?"

"No, sir," Beatrice replied. The Doctor heard her shuffle some papers, and then her voice came on again, "Not one. It seems odd her butler or one of her maidservants didn't alert the police, but then again, this Castle's in the middle of nowhere…"

The Doctor's binds suddenly snapped, and he landed on his head. The phone skittered away, and as the Doctor stumbled up he hard Beatrice's nervous voice ask, "Doctor? Doctor, what's happened? Are you alright?"

The Doctor stood and tottered over to the phone. "I'm fine," he told his acquaintance. "I just fell a few feet onto my face. But I'm fine, as always!"

A stunned silence. Then Beatrice responded, "It seems like you, Doctor, to fall on your face," she chuckled, "but we're getting off track! Can you go help Mournberry? I have important things to do."

"On it!"

"Good. I'll be seeing you, then, Doctor?"

"Indeed, Beatrice. Have a nice time saving lives."

The lines fizzled out, and the Doctor put away his phone, replacing it with his silver ink pen. He strolled to the end of the cavern, admiring the interestingly pearly texture of the stone.

After busting through quite a few hidden passages and knocking out a few warty Garjans, the inhabitants of Nezvarus, the Doctor found his trusty Tartus once again. For this certain area, it was disguised as small shovel replacement shop.

"Oh, you silly old thing," the Doctor opened up the wooden doors and quietly slipped inside. He trotted to the center part of the machine and paced around the circumference of it, flipping and occasional switch and pressing a few buttons. Finally, he went over to the lever and the thing scanned his fingernail. After it was done, the Doctor sat down on his leather armchair and held on the Tartus started to whir.

| Sorry it's so short…I had to split a chapter in half. Enjoy, anyhow, and remember to things:

R & R!

I DO NOT OWN DOCTOR WHO, ANY OF ITS IDEAS, CHRACTERS, OR ANYTHING ELSE RELATED TO IT. Copyright: not me.


	4. Strangers, Nobleness, and Hidden Plans

**Chapter****Four:**_A__Mischievous__Stranger,__a__Noble__Woman,__and__a__Hidden__Secret_

When the Tartus stopped, the Doctor stood and scampered over to the doors. He grabbed his tailcoat on the way and stepped into the blinding Earth sunlight. Towering, shiny buildings stood around him. He must be in the city.

The Doctor curiously glanced around. He spotted an old bookstore a block away, and sauntered over to it. After leaning back to study the building he let himself in.

A female in her mid-thirties, with ginger colored haired lifted her hand in greeting but didn't look up from her laptop, which was set up on the front desk. She must've been the book clerk. The sliver cover of the computer had a simple apple drawing on it, the apple bitten into and glowing white against gray. The Doctor couldn't resist going over to look; Earth's puny devices fascinated him.

He approached to ginger -haired clerk and peered at her computer. She was clicking away, smiling at one point or another. Small beeps and buzzes were sporadically emitting from her electronic machine.

Oh, how the Doctor loved these things! So insignificant they were to other planet's technology, it made them enjoyable to inspect. He studied the laptop until the clerk glanced up at him curiously.

"May I have a look ay your computer, for a moment, Miss?" the Doctor asked the clerk.

The clerk's eyes narrowed suspiciously, and she muttered, "What, do you want to infect it or something? Why would I give my laptop? This thing costs a fortune! It's made by Apple …don't you know how expensive Apple laptops are? They're almost as much…"

"No," the Doctor interrupted. "I will not infect, nor break or steal or harm at that. I would merely like to have a look."

Shrugging, but not taking her hand of the side of it, the clerk let the Doctor come around to her end of the desk and peered closely at the machinery. She couldn't say no, nor could she say yes. The man didn't seem to have a goal of harming it, though a stranger as he was.

"I see…turbonic sense wasn't invented until the twenty-third century," mumbled the Doctor. It was clearly to himself, though with a hint of spiking loudness, as if he was unsure if the fiery-haired clerk was fit to hear his word. "…oh! I see now. He's added a wire. Another program in there…hidden directions…why, it must be a code! Lovely! And that must mean…"

Out of no where, the Doctor placed his hand on nine buttons, muttered 'Malkrov', and held the buttons for a second or two. The computer fizzed and went black.

The clerk's head popped up. "You _idiot_!" she raged, appearing to be mad at not the Doctor, but herself. "You're so _stupid_! Why would you let a flipping stranger onto your laptop? Your parents are going to _kill_ you! Oh, make him pay for it…"

On queue, the computer sizzled back to life. On the screen were millions of icons.

The Doctor froze. "Would you look at that?"

"What is it?" gasped the clerk, "Who are you? What did you do to my laptop?"

"My!" the Doctor clicked around the screen, "That's ingenious…"

_He_is _mad!_The clerk thought to herself frantically, _Great,__Donna,__now__you__'__ve__done__it!__This__stupid__madman__has__ruined__your__savings!_

Without looking up, the Doctor seemed to read her thoughts. "No, I'm not mad!" he exclaimed, "I'm clever. Oh, I love being clever! I stand and push and press like a curious two-year-old and everyone stands there looking impressed."

Unable to control her emotions, which were boiling over the brim, the clerk gave the Doctor a mighty shove. The Doctor stumbled and hit a chair, knocking it over with a mighty crack. He froze for a moment, then pushed his three cornered hat back onto his forehead, stood up, and smile warily. "You have a bite in you, mistress!" he exclaimed, brushing book dust off his pinstriped blue suit.

"I indeed have a bite in me!" the clerk raged, "Donna Noble has enough bite in her to shred you to pieces, which I most certainly won't hesitate to do so!"

The Doctor decided he'd gone a bit too far with his innocent endeavor to click away at a laptop. Sighing, he replied, "I am sorry, m' lady. I guess I am only good with alien technology."

The clerk noticed he'd slipped his tongue. "Alien, you say?" she smirked, "Who are you exactly?"

The Doctor turned the shade of his blood-red bowtie. "The Doctor," he replied.

The clerk laughed but held out her hand cautiously. "Donna Noble," she responded proudly, "Temp."

"Donna Noble," mumbled The Doctor, "I will have to remember that."


End file.
